Full album available here: http://bit.ly/bandcampwdmc

Recorded at "The Attic" and First-Trinity Presbyterian Church in Laurel, Mississippi
Mixed and mastered by Jameson Nathan Jones
 
Violin - Samuel Rolim
Viola - Diana Elizabeth Arguijo
Cello - Alvaro Miranda Gamarra
Piano, Rhodes, Synths, Percussion - Jameson Nathan Jones
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Artwork and design - Tim Sandwick
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for my wife, Allison

www.jamesonnathanjones.com
jamesonnathanjones@gmail.com

What Dreams May Come

Within

Download

03. Within

https://t.me/Night_Music_selection

همینقدر آشفته و در هم!

Modern Classical/Ambient Electronic artist. Pianist. Breakfast food enthusiast.

Check out my recent interview with The Creativity Toolbox: http://www.thecreativitytoolbox.com/interviews/jameson-nathan-jones-composer

I also curate a Spotify playlist called Modern Classical Collection which you can follow to hear some of my friends :)http://bit.ly/mccplaylist

Cinematic Electronic.

Releases on Dispatch Records, Architecture Records, Regression Media, Machinist Music, Modern Conveniences, Ronin Ordinance, Locked Concept, I.L.R. Studios, Noisy Meditation, Cut Records and Loomis & Jones.

Correlation ≅ Causation
Perception ≅ Reality

Music is a beautiful facet of a vast spatial-temporal construct.


Never let me lose the marvel
of your statue-like eyes, or the accent
the solitary rose of your breath
places on my cheek at night.

I am afraid of being, on this shore,
a branchless trunk, and what I most regret
is having no flower, pulp, or clay
for the worm of my despair.

If you are my hidden treasure,
if you are my cross, my dampened pain,
if I am a dog, and you alone my master,

never let me lose what I have gained,
and adorn the branches of your river
with leaves of my estranged Autumn.

______


A light which lives on what the flames devour
a grey landscape surrounding me with scorch
a crucifixion by a single wound
a sky and earth that darken by each hour
a sob of blood whose red ribbon adorns
a lyre without a pulse, and oils the torch
a tide which stuns and strands me on the reef
a scorpion scrambling, stinging in my chest--
this is the wreath of love, this bed of thorns
is where I dream of you stealing my rest,
haunting these sunken ribs cargoed with grief.
I sought the peak of prudence, but I found
the hemlock-brimming valley of your heart,
and my own thirst for bitter truth and art.


- Federico García Lorca

العابرون سريعاً جميلون. لا يتركون ثقلَ ظلّ. ربما غباراً قليلاً، سُرعان ما يختفي، الأكثر جمالاً بيننا، المتخلّي عن حضوره.

- وديع سعادة "عزيزي"

Music touches us emotionally, where words alone can't.